Pavement side, a mother and childand a poet's footsteps exactly coincide:she's saying to him 'birds live in trees,and squirrels...' as we pass, and I can't resist'...and poets', I add, as her sentence hangsstill deep in my one-handed text to youabout how everything changes... 'and poets'she echoes, smiling back briefly, like it'sthe most ordinary moment in a magicalwholly unforseeable world --which it is.